


Owned

by KattsEyeDemon, seekeronthepath



Series: Omegle: Surprisingly Awesome [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Affection, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Anal Sex, BDSM, Begging, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Car Sex, Cock Warming, Collars, Dirty Talk, Dom Derek, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Facials, Fucking Machines, Gags, Leashes, Love Confessions, M/M, Orgasm Control, Overstimulation, Safeword Use, Safewords, Sexual Slavery, Slave Stiles Stilinski, Therefore, but it's still kina iffy by nature, derek cares about consent, planned gangbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7533691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KattsEyeDemon/pseuds/KattsEyeDemon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekeronthepath/pseuds/seekeronthepath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek raised his eyebrows as the man stumbled into the tent. Definitely not broken. “Kneel,” he ordered.</p>
<p>Stiles blinked, his chin tilting upward for a moment, eyeing his new owner up before raising an eyebrow of his own and slipping to his knees, hands palm up on his thighs.</p>
<p>Derek nodded approvingly. “Good. My name is Derek Hale, but you will call me Sir or Master unless I give you permission to do otherwise. Clear?”</p>
<p>"Yes sir," Stiles said after a moment.</p>
<p>-----</p>
<p>Derek buys Stiles as a bed-slave. Over time, interest turns into affection, and from there into love.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Please read the tags, and the warnings. If there's something we haven't tagged, please let us know, but if we have and you didn't like it, that's on you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Owned

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: Stiles is a sex-slave in a universe where that has been normalised. Derek cares about Stiles having a good time, and no other slave/non-slave relationships are shown on screen, but they are referred to, as is Stiles' training. Stiles is kinky, and enjoys the idea of many common components of slave/master relationships, given a kind master. Derek comments at one point (during dirty talk) that Stiles was 'made' to be a slave because of this. Derek makes it clear to Stiles that he doesn't want to distress him, but individual 'scenes' aren't always negotiated. Derek calls Stiles 'slut' at one point, affectionately. Derek gives Stiles a task that he fails, and Stiles is upset - Derek comforts him immediately.
> 
> tl;dr: dub-con, sex slavery

Stiles refused to lower his gaze from where he was standing on the stage. Let the bidders think he was a problem. That was the way he wanted it. He kept his chin up, having grown comfortable in his nudity. That happens after a month on the circuit; you learn to just deal with the leers and prospective stares of the rambling, gambling crowd at the ends of the platform, waiting for the auctioneer to call out an ID and a starting bid.

“Number 7871, personal bed-slave, 20 years of age, perfect physical health!” the auctioneer called, steering the guards to half guide, half drag Stiles front and center, his hands cuffed to his waist, strange hands spinning him around, bending him this way and that to ‘show him off’.

Stiles’ eyes closed tightly for a moment before he looked out over the crowd. This would be his eighth auction. If he wasn’t bought, he’d be sold to a local brothel, where he’d be hired out to those that wanted a ‘quick fix’ rather than a slave that stayed in their house. He wanted an owner, someone who would demand that he please them, and anyone he or she chose. And that owner would _own_ him, would use him as they wanted, when they wanted, no matter what. They had been shown videos of owners using slaves in public and private, everything from blowjobs at restaurants, to just bending them over a nearby surface, pulling down their underpants and fucking them until they came, then continuing on their way. He’d much rather that than a brothel, that’s for sure. In fact. He wanted an owner like that.

Stiles was startled out of his thoughts by the auctioneer: “Starting bid is one thousand!”

Derek looked at the slave considerately. He was confident - defiant, almost. But not from fear, which Derek liked. Definitely attractive, too. Lean and pale, and those lips… He raised his card.

Stiles was jerked onto his knees by a hand in his hair as the auctioneer called out the bid. A couple more followed, making Stiles internally happy. He cried out as his head was yanked back, panting softly and grunting as a guard kicked his knees apart.

Interesting. The man was crying out in startlement and pain, but...there was an edge of something else to it. He was enjoying himself. Derek hadn’t really been committed to the idea of buying a slave when he arrived, but he _wanted_ this one.

Stiles panted, eyeing the guard grinning above him. Oh, they knew what yanking on his hair did. He huffed as the auctioneer finally called out, “SOLD! Mr Hale, if you would continue to the payment and collection tent, your new slave will be cuffed, collared, and dressed for you.”

Derek smirked. The man showed no distress at being sold - not even that well-hidden dismay that some slaves had. Good. Derek wanted a _willing_ slave. He stood, and made his way over to the collection tent.

Stiles didn’t even have time to blink before he was shoved back towards the tents, soft leather cuffs and collar put on him before they forced him into the world’s smallest pair of shorts. He huffed, struggling a bit as the guards continued to shove him, yelping as he was pushed into the collection tent.

 

Derek raised his eyebrows as the man stumbled into the tent. Definitely not broken. “Kneel,” he ordered.

Stiles blinked, his chin tilting upward for a moment, eyeing his new owner up before raising an eyebrow of his own and slipping to his knees, hands palm up on his thighs.

Derek nodded approvingly. “Good. My name is Derek Hale, but you will call me Sir or Master unless I give you permission to do otherwise. Clear?”

"Yes sir," Stiles said after a moment, still looking Derek over, ignoring the guards behind him. He knew they were grinning, making notes on the files that Derek would receive. Things like how pulling his hair got certain reactions, as well as what calling him his real name did. Things like that. He huffed out a breath, wanting nothing more than to kick both of them.

Derek raised his eyebrows. "Since this is our first meeting, I won't scold you for looking. In future, however, I'll expect you to be polite." He eyed the guards, having noted the byplay between them and the slave. "Is there a name you prefer?"

"I prefer Stiles, sir." He offered his nickname, nodding to acknowledge the scold about politeness. "Though that's not my actual name."

Derek frowned slightly. There were a lot of layers to...Stiles. "I see," he said contemplatively. "Then when you're obedient, that's what I'll call you."

Stiles gave Derek a relieved smile, hearing the snickers from the guards. His real name usually sent him into a fearful state, mainly because that's what the slave trainers called him when he was first brought into the training grounds. He hated his real name.

Something was definitely going on. Derek looked at the guards. "Do you have a comment to make?"

The guards smirked to each other, one piping up. "Genim doesn't like his real name, makes him squirrelly. Probably had to do with how he was trained at first."

Stiles flinched sharply at the sound of it, his shoulders curling up to his ears.

Derek's gaze shot to Stiles. No, that wasn't acceptable. "Then I'll thank you not to call him that," he said coldly. He rested a hand on Stiles' head and ran his hands through the slave's hair.

Stiles slowly calmed, his shoulders dropping and pressing absently into the hand in his hair. His hair always seemed to calm him when played with, and tugging brought on a whole other feeling.

Derek kept petting Stiles' hair as he looked over to the cashier. "Are we done?" he asked impatiently. "If you don't mind, I'd like to get this one -" he tugged Stiles' hair lightly "- home."

Stiles let out a soft gasp, his eyes slipping closed as he heard one of the guards chuckle. Papers were handed over and money collected before the cashier nodded. Stiles stayed quiet, content under the hand in his hair.

 

Once they were done, Derek clipped a leash to the collar and wrapped the free end around his hand. "Up, Stiles," he ordered. "We're leaving."

Stiles stood, brushing the dirt off his knees. He cried out, turning his head to glare at the guards. "Hey, that's _my_ ass, asshole."

"Mine, technically," Derek corrected. He gave the guards a disapproving look. "How you treated Stiles while he was in your care was up to you, but he's mine now, and even if he was rude, his objection was not unreasonable."

Stiles jumped away from the guards toward Derek. "Sorry," he murmured, low enough that only Derek could hear.

Derek smiled at him. "Good boy," he said quietly. "I understand that you're going to have to adjust." He looked up at the rest of the people in the room and nodded, dismissing them. "Pleasure doing business with you," he said insincerely.

Stiles followed Derek from the room, chewing on his lower lip. "I am sorry," he murmured. "They've taunted and teased me the entire time I've been here, and honestly I hated them enough to probably put them on a pike...still alive."

"So long as you understand why your behavior was inappropriate," Derek said calmly, "it's not a problem. Today is an unusual day for you, and you haven't had a chance to learn what I expect."

"I was pretty sure I was going to end up in the brothels," Stiles admitted. "And while that may have been better than the training circuit, I didn't want to be passed around like that. If I'm going to be passed around, I wanted it to be because my owner wanted it." He murmured the last part to himself, but he had a feeling Derek heard it anyway.

Derek raised his eyebrows. "This seems like a good time to ask - is there anything that you would seriously dislike doing, or me doing to you? You're mine, and I'll use you as I see fit, but I won't enjoy distressing you."

Stiles hesitated, thinking over carefully. "I don't enjoy my actual name. Same with public humiliation. I've seen some bed-slaves being trained in things like watersports and scat and blood and honestly it grosses me out and makes me nauseous."

Derek nodded. "I'm not interested in body fluids being involved other than spit and come. The other two, I'll remember. Thank you for your honesty."

Stiles smiled as he stepped closer, the praise relaxing him just a bit more. He wouldn't be completely relaxed until they were away from the auction site though.

 

Derek's car was close, thank goodness, and he nodded to the passenger door as he unlocked it. "You'll sit beside me for now," he said, unhooking the leash from Stiles’ collar.

"Yes, sir." Stiles slid into the seat, relaxing a bit as he was finally enclosed, safe from wandering hands and eyes.

Derek glanced at Stiles as he started the car. Time to test him out a little. "Entertain me," he ordered. "You may use your words, and you may touch yourself."

Stiles looked over, chewing on his lip as he thought. "May I ask questions?" he asked, though he was already spreading himself out in the seat, legs apart, and leaning the back of the seat backwards just a bit.

"Call me sir or master," Derek reminded him. "And so long as you're polite, yes, you may. I won't always answer."

Stiles nodded. "Yes sir." He thought for a moment, trying to figure out where to start. "I'm honestly not sure where to start, where would you like me to begin?" he asked, shifting in the seat to plant his feet.

" 'Where would you like me to begin, _sir_ '," Derek corrected. "And if you forget that again, there'll be consequences you won't like. Tell me what you're good at, what you enjoy."

Stiles whined in the back of his throat. "Sorry, sir," he murmured. After a moment he shifted a bit, chewing his lip. "I've been told I'm good with my mouth, sir. Though they tended to say that more because it's one of the only ways to stop my rambling. I like being bent over odd things, sir. Things like desks, beds, counters. It doesn't really matter, I like the randomness of a hand suddenly pinning me down and a cock sliding into me, sir." He tilted his head back at the thought, tongue slicking his lips.

"Better," Derek said, swallowing hard at the mental images. "I'll have to get you some plugs to keep you open."

"Opened nice and wide, constantly wet and hungry, sir," Stiles murmured, his hand sliding across his thighs as he thought about it. "Wandering around the house, suddenly pinned to the wall or bent over that nice table, plug pulled out only to be replaced by your cock, sir." He let out a soft pant, his pupils getting bigger. "Even in public, taking me bent over a bench, just because the mood hit you. Just used until you come, plug sliding back in place before a single drop could escape and we continue on like nothing happened. But, sir, I wouldn't be able to do it well, I've been told I'm cock-hungry, sir. Love just falling to my knees, sucking your cock, under tables, while you watch tv, during meetings. Lazy ones, slow ones, fast and hard ones where you fuck my throat, sir." He whimpered, hips bucking a bit as his hand brushed his cock.

Derek was hardening in his pants. Stiles was _good_ at this. "Having a cock-warmer would be nice," he admitted.

"Love the thought of stretching out on the bed, sir, just waiting until you got home, already spread out and arched just right for you to slide straight in as soon as you're through the door. Same for my mouth, kneeling just inside the door, waiting. Sir, want to be told I can't come unless I'm on your cock, no matter how much I touch myself." Stiles let out a soft gasping whine as he stroked himself. "Please, sir."

"You're made to be a slave, aren't you?" Derek said, voice low. "No coming unless I say you can," he ordered. "No touching yourself unless I'm present."

Stiles groaned softly. "Liked the idea of things like that before I became a slave, sir," he whispered, his thumb  flicking over the head of his cock.

"What else did you like the idea of?" Derek asked. This was going to be fun.

"Had dreams of someone sharing me, sir," Stiles admitted softly, his breathing hitched as he rocked into his hand, his other arm flung up behind him.

Derek smirked. "Oh? Want me to loan you out, or would you rather be a party favor?" Shit, the thought of Stiles in the center of a gang-bang was...well, Derek was looking forward to getting home.

"Party favor, sir." Stiles whimpered, arching his back away from the seat, making sure to put on a good show for Derek. "Only those that Sir invited to would touch, but at the end, Sir would be the one to finish me off."

"What if I didn't?" Derek threatened, swallowing hard at the image. "What if I left you, covered in come and unsatisfied?"

Stiles cursed softly, writhing just a bit on the seat, rocking back absently. "I'd beg so pretty, sir," he panted. "Show you how good I could be."

"Show me now, then," Derek said softly, dangerously. "Hands off."

Stiles let out a high whine, his hands moving to grip the console and the door. "Sir," he whimpered, still rocking just a bit.

"Good boy," Derek said. "Well done." They were actually almost to Derek's house at this point - turning onto his street, in fact.

Stiles let out a soft moan at the praise. Licking his lips, he panted, "Please, sir."

"Be specific," Derek ordered, savoring Stiles' pleas. "What do you want?"

"Want you. Want to come, want to taste, sir," he begged softly.

 

"Alright," Derek said, pulling over. He pushed his seat back a little. "Suck me. Show me what you can do."

Stiles scrambled to re-position himself, leaning toward to nuzzle Derek through his pants. Fingers reached to undo his pants, mouthing at his cock through the fabric.

Derek smiled at Stiles' enthusiasm. "Eager, aren't you?" he murmured. "It's alright, no rush."

Stiles let out a soft sound, hand slipping to tug Derek's cock out, sucking it into his mouth.

"Fuck," Derek muttered. Stiles' mouth was as good as it looked. Which should have been impossible.

Stiles hummed, his eyes slipping closed as he sunk deeper, cheeks hollowing out as he pulled up. He loved the taste and feel of Derek, the weight on his tongue. He pulled off with a pant, swirling his tongue around the head before sinking back down.

"Shit," Derek gasped, breathing hard. "Well, they weren't - mm - lying about you being good with your - your mouth."

Stiles pulled off long enough to chuckle, tongue swiping at the slit. "No sir," he murmured, sucking and teasing at the head of Derek's cock.

Derek tried to hold himself back, then realized he didn't have to and let go, bucking up into Stiles' mouth.

Stiles let out a loud moan, relaxing his throat, perfectly content to let Derek fuck his throat.

Oh god. Derek hadn't realized before what it was like, to fuck someone who just...let you. Knowing that he could fuck into the hot tunnel of Stiles' throat as much as he wanted, whenever he wanted..."Fuck," he grunted.

Stiles swallowed around Derek's cock each time he paused enough between rolls. one of his hands slid to Derek's side, stroking the skin there. His other hand slid to cup his owner’s balls through his jeans.

Derek was...fuck, he was close. He knew Stiles would swallow it all down, but... "Pull off, stay close, and close your eyes," Derek ordered. "You're going to wear my come until we're home."

Stiles groaned, pulling away and closing his eyes, panting as his hand automatically went to take his mouth's spot. "Please, sir."

Derek suppressed a groan. "Close your mouth," he ordered. "You don't get to taste." He rutted up into Stiles' hand once, twice, three times, and let go, letting the orgasm roll over him.

Stiles whined, almost pouting as he closed his lip, groaning as the first streak landed on his cheek and up into his hair. Not licking his mouth was going to be hard, he wanted it. Panting heavily through his nose he worked Derek through his orgasm, his free hand still stroking the skin on his owner's side.

Derek shuddered, staring at Stiles' face, his mark on him. "Look at me," he demanded when he was done, and used his thumb to clean off Stiles' lips, wiping it off on Stiles' cheek. "Good."

Stiles panted softly, eyes locked with Derek. He grinned at the praise, moving to lick his lips before freezing. "Sorry, sir."

Derek smirked slightly. "That's why I cleaned them off. Back in your seat." He tucked his dick back into his pants and started up the car. One part of him just wanted to cross the road and get into his driveway so he could get Stiles inside and _really_ take advantage of him. But it was _very_ tempting to take him around a block or two and show off his messy face.

 

Stiles sat back in his seat, grinning a bit at Derek. "So, where are we, sir?"

"Not far," Derek conceded, pulling out of the parking space. They'd drive around a block or two. Maybe a little more. It depended how Stiles reacted.

Stiles smiled, laying his head back and watched outside, licking his lips.

"Careful," Derek warned. "You're still filthy. And you still don't get to taste."

Stiles whined. "Yes. sir," he whispered softly. He spread his legs, hands on his thighs.

"Good," Derek said approvingly. "There will be more rules for you later, when I've decided how I want to use you, but for now...you will take what I want you to take, and you will get what I want you to have. Nothing more, and nothing less, and I'll expect you to be grateful."

"Yes, sir, thank you." Stiles smiled, still facing the window.

"So...what were you trained for?" Derek asked. Honestly, he didn't know that much about the intricacies of the slave trade - he'd never been interested until recently.

"Sex." Stiles grinned. "Though, it might be easier, sir, for you to ask if I've been trained for certain things. Because my brain tends to go blank with things like that. Sorry, sir."

Derek snorted. "I'm guessing if I ever want to punish you, silence will be a good way to go," he muttered. "Fine. Based on the blowjob, I assume you're trained to look after a cock in your mouth or ass. How far did they stretch you? How much can you take?" Derek would quite like to see Stiles on a fucking machine, actually.

"Uggh, silence," Stiles whined softly. "Please don't, sir.” He tilted his head, listening close. "I’ve taken just a bit bigger than you, sir. They didn't train too much as they wanted some surprise in our lives I guess." He hummed. "Used to being plugged, also tied to beds and tables."

Derek nodded contemplatively. Obviously he liked the idea of Stiles snug around him, but the thought of stretching him wider and wider...he wanted that, too. "And did the surprises they wanted in your lives include orgasm control?" he asked.

"They did some parts of it. But not much. Usually it was cock cages and the like." Stiles moved his head toward Derek, watching him.

Derek frowned a little. "Not good enough. You'll have a cage until you learn to do it properly, but I _do_ expect you to learn." He smirked. "Once you've mastered not coming without permission, we'll start working on you coming on command."

Stiles shivered, licking his lips again. "Yes, sir." He grinned. This was going to be fun.

Derek turned a corner, back onto his own street. "If you don't stop trying to taste, I'll gag you so you can't," he said conversationally.

Stiles flushed darkly. "Sorry, sir. I wasn't trying to, it's a habit to lick my lips." He had actually almost forgotten the come was on his face.

"Hmm." Derek pulled into his driveway and parked. "Just so you know, I don't like excuses. Explanations, I'll tolerate. But not excuses."

"Yes, sir. I wasn't trying to make an excuse, sir," Stiles murmured. He looked over to the house. "Oh wow."

 

Derek huffed a laugh. "Come on, then. Time to get you set up." He got out, waiting for Stiles so he could lock the car.

"Set up, sir?" Stiles asked, slipping next to Derek after he got out of the car. He tilted his head, watching Derek.

"Just because I wasn't sure I'd buy a pet today doesn't mean I didn't get supplies," Derek pointed out, leading Stiles to the front door. "I'm certainly not leaving you in a complimentary collar."

Stiles smiled, fiddling with the D-links on the cuffs he wore. "Thank you, sir," he murmured, following Derek, still trying to take in the house.

 

Derek's house was really too big for one person, but it was convenient now. He gave Stiles a quick tour, pointing out rooms he was and wasn't allowed to enter. "Kitchen, living room, downstairs bathroom, laundry...you may access these at any time, unless I say otherwise. I'll assign you tasks, but they won't take all your time, so you're allowed to entertain yourself with what's in the living room unless I tell you otherwise."

"Yes, sir." Stiles smiled, looking around the kitchen with more interest than the others, though he eyed the movie shelves with interest. He stayed close to Derek, not wanting to get lost in the house already.

Derek nodded at a nondescript door under the stairs. "That leads to the basement. You'll be spending plenty of time there, but only when I want you to. Don't go in there without permission."

"Yes, sir." Stiles nodded his understanding, giving the door a curious look - but he didn't ask. He'd find out soon enough.

Derek led Stiles upstairs, and gestured to the open doors on their left. "My room, and my office. Enter only with permission, again, but you'll spend a lot of time there."

Stiles nodded again, fingers reaching out to touch the bedroom’s door jamb without thinking as he followed.

Derek noted the movement, but didn't comment. "I have my own bathroom, off the bedroom, but there's also a larger one on this floor." He nodded towards the door of that one. "I'll expect you to keep yourself clean and prepped."

Stiles flushed, though he smiled. "Yes sir, I will." He knew he was grimy from the auction and the circuit, but he honestly loved baths, so that wasn't a hardship at all.

"Inside and out," Derek reminded him, but smiled to see Stiles happy about such a small thing. He turned to the rooms on the right side of the corridor. "These are guest rooms," he explained. "We'll refit one of them as yours and, within certain limitations, you'll have privacy there."

The thought of having his own room shocked Stiles, but he was happy, smiling widely. Even if he never slept in there, it was a nice thought to have his own space. He hadn't known how anything would run, so he honestly wasn't expecting anything when it came to sleeping space.

Derek glanced at Stiles and realised he should probably explain some things. "Pick a room," he said, "and we'll talk."

 

Stiles nodded, chewing on his lip as he peeked into each one. His eyes lit up at one that had a window bench looking into the backyard. "This one, please sir?" he asked, stepping inside and smiling widely. It wasn't the biggest of the guest rooms, but he liked it better. Mainly for the window seat, if he was to be honest.

Derek nodded, smiling back, and gestured Stiles over to the window seat, walking over himself. "Sit. We need to talk."

Stiles walked over, sitting down and pulling his knees to his chest, turning so he was pressed against one wall, facing Derek. He didn't know too much about what they were going to be talking about, but he figured it was rules and things.

 

Derek contemplated Stiles for a minute. He looked vulnerable like that, and it made Derek very aware of how much power he held. "You aren't my boyfriend," he said abruptly. "We both know that. You aren't my boyfriend, or my roommate, or my sub."

Stiles nodded. "I'm your bedslave, sir," he murmured. He wasn't going to think that he was more than what he was. Did he hope that his Master would come to love him, even a little? Yes. But he was nothing more than a bedslave, and he knew it.

Derek sighed. "Which means that I have a great deal of rights regarding your person, but no prior relationship contextualising them." Derek had seen people who were cruel to their slaves, or who treated them as things. He didn't agree with it, and he didn't want to be that person. "I'm telling you right now, you're my slave, but you aren't my toy. You're a person, not a thing, and I don't plan on forgetting that."

Stiles gave Derek a shocked look, his smile bright and warm as it stretched over his face. "Thank you, sir," he whispered. He didn’t mind being a bedslave. At least the parts he'd had so far, but the fact that Derek pretty much just told him he wouldn't be one of the cruel owners, that...that meant a lot to Stiles. He’d been scared of that happening, and now he didn't have to be.

Derek smiled back. "I told you earlier that I won't enjoy distressing you. I may test you, push you, frustrate you. I may use pain to punish you. But if I am ever actually hurting you, mentally or physically, I want you to tell me."

Stiles nodded, the smile still on his face. "I can do that, sir," he assured, licking his lips, his fingers fidgeting with his toenails.

"Thank you," Derek said seriously. "Your privileges will increase over time as you show you're worth my trust, but at baseline...this room is your space. We will not interact sexually here. You may request up to, hmm, twenty hours a week with the door closed, in which time I will not make demands on you. No more than six hours at a time, you must ask in advance, and I may not always allow those _specific_ times, but you will have privacy. If I discover you've used it to break the rules, you will have fewer privileges, obviously."

Stiles nodded, trying to do the mental math in his head before giving up and figuring he'd sort it out later. "Yes sir." He smiled, waiting for his Master to continue. He was very okay with everything so far.

"So long as it doesn't interfere with your duties, I have no problem with you pursuing your own interests," Derek explained. "If the materials you have access to are not enough, you will have a wish-list that I will keep track of, and when I am pleased with you, I'll buy you things. Eventually, you may earn computer access." For now, though, unrestricted communication was _not_ on the cards. "You are a mind as well as a body, and I don't want to neglect or harm either."

Stiles spoke up. "I like drawing, I was really good at it. And I like baking and learning new languages. Sir." He added the 'sir' as an afterthought, flushing slightly, as he had forgotten that he needed to say it when he spoke.

"That's easy enough to manage," Derek admitted. "Although conversational partners for other languages will have to wait a while. Unless it's Spanish, I speak that one."

Stiles’ eyes lit up. "Can you teach me, sir?" he asked softly. He didn't care about talking to people in the languages he learnt, but he liked the thought of Derek teaching him a language. "I also used to sculpt. Both clay and plaster. Those are a bit messier than drawing though." He chuckled softly.

"If you want, mio," Derek said easily, amused by Stiles' enthusiasm. "We might hold off on the sculpting for a while. But you'll find plenty of paper."

Stiles tilted his head, not even phased at the fact that he wouldn't get to sculpt anytime soon. There was paper anyway. "What does ‘mio’ mean, sir?" he asked, interest piqued.

"Mine," Derek answered him. "Which shouldn't surprise you, if you know anything about Romance languages." He had a feeling Stiles was intelligent, but the man hadn't had a chance to prove it yet.

Stiles flushed darkly, a small grin on his face. "I know some, but sometimes my mind goes blank when I try to access something I haven't seen more than once, sir."

"You'll learn," Derek said comfortably. "Do you have any questions so far?"

"No sir." Stiles shook his head, smiling softly.

Derek nodded. "Alright. Those are your privileges, then. Your rules are to be clean, prepped, polite, and obedient at all times. We'll work out your responsibilities once I've had a chance to find out what you're good at. For now..." Derek looked Stiles up and down, noting the grime on his knees and the dried come on his face, "Get yourself clean while I get some things out of the basement for you."

Stiles’ eyes lit up. "Yes sir. Thank you." He kissed Derek's cheek before he could think twice, heading straight to the bathroom to shower. Oh god, he thought he'd never be clean again. He groaned softly, letting his head fall back as he washed. It took longer than he'd care to think about for the water to turn clear, but it was amazing to feel clean again. He washed his face carefully, not letting himself taste it no matter how much he wanted too. Derek had told him no.

 

Meanwhile, Derek went down to the basement, looking around contemplatively. Since he'd decided he wanted to buy a slave, about six months ago, he'd been accumulating...supplies, here and there. Nothing that needed fitting, obviously, so no cock-cage. Instead, Derek pulled out a matching set of leather collar, cuffs, and cock-ring. He also grabbed the box of ‘training’ plugs - considering the range of sizes in there, _one_ of them would fit Stiles. And lube. The big pump pack, for Stiles to keep in his bedroom or the bathroom. Satisfied with his choices, Derek returned upstairs.

Stiles finished washing his hair, letting out a happy sound as the water ran clear and only the smell of shampoo and soap filled the air. He stepped out of the shower, drying off and shaking it over his hair. Stiles hummed, not sure where he was supposed to go, and ended up waiting in the hallway, shifting from one foot to the other.

When Derek got to the top of the stairs, he found Stiles, naked and clean (and shit, he was _pale_ under all that dirt) in the hall. Derek tilted his head towards his own room, leading the way. "In here," he said.

Stiles grinned, following Derek and folding the damp towel he had used to dry his hair. He stretched, feeling cleaner than he had in forever, though his pale skin was still dotted in moles and freckles, half driving him nuts. When he was little he actually used to play connect the dots with them, and he knew that on his hip there was a wolf-like constellation in the dots along his pale skin.

Derek put everything down on the bed and looked at Stiles. "Sit," he ordered. "Legs apart."

"Where would you like me to sit, sir?" Stiles asked, seeing a reading chair in the corner as well as the bed. Then again there was always the floor.

"On the bed," Derek said, suppressing his impatience. It's not like Stiles had reason to be able to anticipate what Derek would want. Of course he'd be cautious.

Stiles flushed, seeing the flash of impatience on Derek's face. "Sorry, sir," he murmured, fingers brushing his arm as he passed him, sitting on the bed and spreading his legs as wide as he could without ending up in a split.

Derek tilted Stiles' chin up with his fingers, efficiently removing the complimentary collar and replacing it with his own - sturdy black leather, a tag with Derek's phone number, and a lock.

Stiles tilted his head back with Derek's fingers, the feel of the new collar making him settle in his skin even more. "Thank you, sir," he murmured. "This feels better than the other one by far."

Derek checked the fit carefully, making sure it wasn't too tight, and locked the collar in place. "Hands," he said calmly.

Stiles lifted his hands in front of him, palms up and offered to Derek. He eyed the cuffs that Derek had, a small smile on his face.

Derek fixed the cuffs around Stiles' wrists. They were still a little stiff, but that would pass soon, and they were quality leather.

Stiles let one finger slide along the stitching on one of the cuffs. "Thank you, sir," he whispered, tilting his head back to look at Derek, a small smile still on his face, shoulders loose and relaxed.

Derek smiled to see Stiles relaxed and comfortable. He knelt between Stiles' legs and tucked him into the cock ring. "Is this too tight?" he checked as he did up the strap.

Stiles' breathing hitched, but he shook his head. "Snug, but not too tight, sir," he murmured, leaning back unconsciously to open himself up more to Derek's eyes.

Derek checked the fit carefully with his fingers, then locked the ring in place. "Good," he said, patting Stiles' thigh as he stood again, getting the case of plugs and opening it to show Stiles. "What size are you used to?"

Stiles licked his lips, looking over the case with a soft chuckle. "That's a lot of different ones." he murmured. "I think the biggest they went was this one for a plug. Not the biggest I've had period, but in plugs, yeah." He reached out, running his fingers along the third biggest. "They said that our owners would like us being stretched, but still tight."

 

"Stiles," Derek said warningly. "You forgot something."

Stiles looked up, a bit confused before he flushed. "Sorry, sir." he whispered, lowering his head again. He kept forgetting. God, he was such a fucking idiot.

"Ten minutes of silence," Derek decided. "Each time you forget, your punishment will be ten minutes longer, too." They'd have to reset eventually, but Derek was waiting to see how quickly Stiles' learnt before he decided when they would. "Do you need a gag?"

Stiles bit back a whimper, lowering his head further, he looked up at Derek's question, pressing his lips together as he thought. He shrugged, honestly not knowing how he was to answer when he had to stay quiet, yet still place the ‘sir’ in there. He also didn't know if he'd need one or not. He leaned up, running the tip of his nose along the underside of Derek's chin in submission, hoping that that added the 'sir'.

Stiles was a remarkably _sweet_ slave for one with such intelligence and potential for defiance. "We'll get you one, then," Derek decided. "I'm not trying to make you fail, mio. Follow me." Derek stood, waiting for Stiles to follow.

Stiles stood, following Derek, still cursing himself. He hadn't even been thinking, only blurting out information when a question was asked.

Derek led Stiles down into the basement, realising as he hit the stairs that it would probably be a bit intimidating for the man. It's not that Derek had done too much experimenting before, but once he started planning on getting a slave, he'd wanted to. The set-up down here was...extensive.

Stiles looked up, blinking at the sight of the room, tilting his head and looking toward Derek.

The concrete floor had been covered with lino, for easier cleaning and more comfortable kneeling. There was a storage area against the back wall, but far more noticeable were the frames, cage and fucking machine stacked neatly by the right hand wall. Derek ignored those, going instead to the cabinets on the left wall, above and below a counter with a metal sink. Derek hadn't filled up those cabinets by any means, but there was a respectable collection of toys in the top right-hand one, including a few gags. After a moment of contemplation, Derek got out the leather stuffer, the one designed to muffle sound _completely,_ and turned back to face Stiles.

Stiles flushed softly, heading to stand in front of Derek. He hated having to be quiet, but he knew he had messed up. He tilted his head back just a bit so Derek could reach around him better.

"Open," Derek ordered softly, holding the gag section to Stiles' lips with one hand and gripping his chin with the other to open his mouth wide. He worked it inside and paused, giving Stiles' a little while to adjust.

Stiles almost let out a whimper as it slid into his mouth, almost to the back of his teeth.He settled though, watching him. He wouldn't be able to do much with this gag in, but at least he didn't have to be quiet too long.

Derek fastened the strap around the back of Stiles' head, sliding a finger underneath it to make sure none of Stiles' hair got caught, and stood back to admire the effect. The gag had a large leather panel on the front section that was obscuring most of the bottom half of Stiles' face, and in colour it matched the collar, cuffs, and cock-ring Stiles was already wearing. "Presentation posture," Derek demanded.

Stiles shivered, slipping to his knees, legs spread as wide as they would go, hands open palm up on his thighs, and back straight. He held Derek's eyes for just a moment before lowering his face to the floor between Derek's feet.

Stiles was definitely well-trained - the curve of his back was just...perfect. "Just think, Stiles," Derek murmured. "If you had been obedient, you could be kissing my feet right now."

Stiles bite back another whimper, his fingers curling just a bit. He wasn't sure about kissing Derek's feet, but he knew he fucked up, thank you very much.

"Alright." Derek nodded, satisfied. "Up. We still need to fit you with your plug."

Stiles stood, swaying softly as he took a step closer to Derek, nose running and nuzzling along Derek's jaw for a moment.

"You're an affectionate puppy, aren't you?" Derek mused, scratching at Stiles' hair. "Come on, upstairs."

Stiles leaned into the hand in his hair, swallowing as well as he could around the gag, following Derek back upstairs, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of the gag's front panel.

 

When they got back to his bedroom, Derek looked over the plugs again. He didn't really want to work on stretching Stiles yet, just keep him open. He choose a plug two smaller than the one Stiles had pointed to earlier, smooth and tapered. "Bend over," he ordered, nodding towards the bed.

Stiles nodded, walking over to lean on the bed, his hands automatically stretching out as far as he could, feet wide splayed to open himself up. Put himself on display.

Derek caressed Stiles' ass with one hand as he pumped lube onto the fingers of the other, eyeing Stiles' hole to figure out how much prep the man would need.

Stiles let out a completely muffled moan, laying his head down on the bed, his face turned to the side as he panted in and out of his nose.

Derek raised his eyebrows, surprised by how responsive Stiles was, and pushed two fingers into Stiles' hole.

Stiles pushed back against him, fingers twisting in the blanket. God, something about Derek drove him wild.

"Eager, hmm?" Derek murmured, scissoring his fingers apart methodically. "Stay still."

Stiles let out another muffled noise, freezing as he started panting.

"Good." Derek squeezed Stiles' ass again to go with the praise and crooked his fingers against Stiles' prostate. "Ready for three?"

Stiles nodded, peeking over his shoulder before dropping his head back down with a soft, blocked moan.

Three fingers didn't go in as easily as two had - Derek wasn't exactly taking his time - but Stiles wasn't _too_ tight, either. No, he felt amazing, and Derek couldn't help but want to try out that hole properly. He could feel his cock hardening as he stretched Stiles out, tapping on his prostate now and then to tease him.

Stiles let out cut-off whimpers, one hand going to press against the gag pleadingly. His thighs shook as he tried to keep his hips still.

Stiles was prepped now, and Derek was hard. He pulled his fingers out of Stiles' ass to dispense more lube, and thumbed open the button of his pants as silently as he could with the other hand.

 

Stiles wanted the gag off so he could beg for what he wanted. His hips twitched uncontrollably at each prostate tap. His was breathing so fast it was almost hyperventilating.

"Shh." Derek stroked Stiles' back soothingly. "Relax, mio. Just take what I give you." He unzipped his fly to get his cock out and lube it up.

The soothing motions as well as Derek using the small endearment settled Stiles. Oh he still wanted, horribly, but he was a bit more patient now.

Derek carefully guided his cock into Stiles' waiting hole, pausing with just the head inside to let Stiles adjust.

Stiles moaned, the hand on his gag playing with the edges as his hole fluttered around Derek's dick. God he loved that. Wanted more.

"Fuck," Derek muttered. Stiles hole was _good_ \- hot and tight around him, but loose enough that he knew he'd be able to move. Derek thrust all the way in, bottoming out, then began to fuck Stiles properly.

Stiles let out a blocked moan, unconsciously moving to his tiptoes so he could arch his ass higher, fingers scabbling in the sheets.

Derek gripped Stiles' hips hard, keeping him in place as he fucked into the bedslave hard and fast.

Stiles felt his eyes roll back, his hands slipping down and around his back, fingers gripping the edge of Derek's shirt, desperate for more contact.

Derek huffed, but didn't tell Stiles to let go. He hadn't given Stiles any instructions about his hands anyway.

Stiles whimpered, cursing silently when it didn't make it past the gag. He held onto Derek's shirt for another moment more before letting his hands fall to his lower back, his eyes closed. He was hard as a rock, letting his owner take him.

"You want this to be your task, don't you?" Derek growled, a little breathlessly. "To take me whenever I feel like fucking something. Show me it should be you." _Fuck,_ it was definitely going to be Stiles. "Make it good."

Stiles immediately started tightening his hole, releasing each time Derek pushed in before retightening as his owner dragged out. His hands curled and uncurled in the small of his back, wanting nothing more than to rip the gag off.

"Shit," Derek couldn't help but mutter. Shit, Stiles was _good_ at this. Someday, he thought, he'd get Stiles to ride him. Fuck, that would be _amazing_. Oh god, he was - he _knew_ he was getting close, he could feel it welling up in him, but he could remember all that stuff he'd read about training slaves and...he pulled out.

Stiles let out what would have been a loud whine, his fingers scrabbling at his own skin, his eyes welling up. Why was Derek pulling away? Did he not do it well? He shivered, his legs trembling as he kept the position. Both not wanting to let Derek see his tears, but also to stay where Derek had told him to be.

Derek rested his hand on Stiles' fingers, patting them soothingly. "You did well, mio," he explained. "You're very good at that. But you've earned my come _on_ you, not _in_ you, yet."

Stiles clutched at Derek’s hand, turning to press his face into the blanket to blink away his tears as he relaxed. He nodded, taking deep breaths. He hadn't been bad or displeasing.

Derek squeezed Stiles' hand and let go to jerk off over Stiles' back. With the visual of Stiles' naked back and clutching open hole, with how hard he was already, it wasn't long before Derek's come was spattering over the top of Stiles' ass.

Stiles twitched, letting out a slow breath as he felt Derek come over his skin, relaxing fully into the stance he was in.

 

Derek just...stood there, for a long moment, savouring the picture Stiles made. Then he reached for the plug on the bed, matter-of-factly lubed it up, and worked it into Stiles' hole. "Stand," he ordered.

Stiles pushed back into the force of the plug filling him up before standing carefully, sniffling a bit to try and clear his sinuses after the random tears.

There were...tear tracks on Stiles' cheeks? From what? Had Derek distressed him? Pushed him too hard with the prep? Derek checked his watch and reached for the gag. "Time's up, punishment's over," he explained, unbuckling the straps and easing the stuffer out of Stiles' mouth. "What have you learned?"

Stiles panted softly, rocking forward toward Derek. "Always say ‘sir’, sir," he murmured, sniffling.

"Good boy," Derek praised. "Hopefully I won't have to punish you for that again."

"Sorry, sir," Stiles murmured. He wiped at his face, keeping his head lowered.

Derek tucked two fingers under Stiles' chin and tilted his head up. "Now, why the tears? Did I do something to distress you?"

Stiles leaned into the touch. "When you pulled away I thought I'd made you mad, sir," he whispered.

"Not mad, mio," Derek reassured him. "I just wanted to do something different. I'll try to be as clear as I can about when you've displeased me."

Stiles nodded, giving him a small smile. "Thank you, sir." He leaned forward, kissing Derek's jaw.

It was a sweet gesture, affectionate and undemanding, and Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles' forehead in return. "I think we'll do very well together."

Stiles leaned against the kiss, a happy smile on his face. "Yes, sir."

\-----

Derek glanced down at the top of Stiles' head between his legs and smiled before turning back to his emails. It was comfortable routine for them now, Stiles warming Derek's cock as he worked, and one of Derek's favourite things about owning Stiles.

Stiles' head was resting gently on Derek's thighs, eyes half closed as he knelt there. Derek was heavy on his tongue, though he didn't suck or move his head, just holding his Master's cock in his mouth. His hands were on his thighs, though one drifted every now and then to stroke Derek's ankle and calf.

Derek opened an email from Peter with the simple subject line 'Opportunity' and raised his eyebrows. It's not that Derek really _needed_ to do the sort of networking Peter favoured. But a slave-sharing party...well, Stiles _had_ liked the idea of being loaned out. He tapped Stiles on the shoulder, getting his full attention.

Stiles lifted his eyes to Derek, though he didn't move. He let out a soft questioning hum, one hand going to wrap around Derek’s leg.

"I've been invited to a slave-sharing party," Derek explained. "It's not _for_ slave-sharing as such, but it's in the invitation that it'll happen if you know how to look."

Stiles hummed, smiling around him a bit, fingers stroking Derek's leg. They had talked about something like that, though it was up to Derek if they went.

"Unfortunately, Peter will be there," Derek added. But he wasn't entirely wrong that it would be a good opportunity. And occasionally there were people who were actually tolerable at these things.

Stiles hummed again, rolling his eyes and letting out what could have been a snort. He wasn't very fond of Peter. Always tried to touch him without his owner's permission.

Derek smiled and scratched at Stiles' scalp approvingly. "Alright then. Party it is. We'll have to get you some supplies." Derek thought about it as he answered the email. Stiles was beautiful without adornment, but he couldn't come to a party in collar and cuffs.

Stiles let out a low hum that would have been a purr, his eyes falling back half closed at the scratching. He wrapped his arm around Derek's leg again, hugging it close.

Derek could feel himself hardening at the vibrations around his cock, and tugged on Stiles' hair until his nose was tucked against Derek's crotch. "You'll wear makeup," Derek decided. "Lipstick, at the very least."

Stiles whimpered, breathing deeply and sinking into Derek's hold, letting him move his head as he wanted.

"Everyone's going to want to fuck that mouth of yours," Derek said. Lipstick would only be a signpost that he needed it.

Stiles hummed again, moving just enough to nuzzle the soft, trimmed hair at Derek's crotch.

Derek was _definitely_ getting hard now, filling up the hot space of Stiles' mouth. "Nurse my cock, mio," Derek ordered. "Suck on it, gently."

Stiles hummed, sucking gently on Derek's cock, tongue curling around it and suckling like he was nursing. He loved doing this, loved having Derek in his mouth (though the random fucking was very nice too).

 

Derek liked prolonging his orgasms like this, liked letting everything go slow and steady. Except when he just wanted to fuck Stiles in the ass until he came, of course. "I'm trying to decide if you should wear your cage for the party," he said, as calmly as he could manage.

Stiles let out a soft moan, fingertips digging into Derek's calf to show that he liked that idea. He loved coming, don't get him wrong, but sometimes just being able to feel the pleasure of being used without coming, or even rarer, having a dry orgasm, is a wonderful thing.

Derek raised his eyebrows at the response. "I see. You'll disappoint the ladies, Stiles."

Stiles let out a huff through his nose, rolling his eyes but nodding, stroking his fingers along Derek's calf. He'd let Derek decide.

"You'll just have to satisfy them with your mouth and fingers," Derek commented, tapping Stiles' cheek where the bulge of Derek's cock showed through. "I assume you're trained in that?"

Stiles wrinkled his nose, raising a hand to show Derek as he waved it back and forth. So-so. He didn't much like it, but  he'd do it. They didn't spend long on that training.

"Hmm." Derek began to move Stiles up and down on his cock with a hand on his hair. "I'll expect you to do me proud at the party. Do you need a training pussy?" The toys, a variation on a fleshlight for slaves, could either light up, vibrate, or moan when you played with their clit or pussy in what were considered 'good' ways.

Stiles whined, wrinkling his nose, even as he sucked just a bit harder. He didn't really want one, but he'd use one if Derek wanted him too.

"Stiles," Derek said warningly, pulling Stiles off his cock. "I'm going to repeat that: I'll expect you to do me proud at the party. Do you need a training pussy in order to do so?"

Stiles let out a soft whine, looking up at Derek. "I don't...think..so? They didn't spend too long on that training, sir, but I'm pretty sure I remember it." He licked his lips, his voice heavy from just holding Derek's cock for so long.

"You'll show me later, then," Derek said easily. Stiles could practice on a nipple, maybe. Speaking of nipples... "Your nipples will be clamped and chained for the party. Attached to your cage, I think."

Stiles let out a small shiver, licking his lips. "Yes, sir," he murmured softly, wondering how Derek was going to make him show off, as well as picturing the clamps.

"I wonder if I should put you in a chastity harness so _everyone_ knows your cock's not for use," Derek mused. Stiles did look good in harnesses. But his pale skin was one of his best features - obscuring it was a shame.

Stiles wrinkled his nose. He was never fond of the chastity harness. He liked his cage well enough, but the harness made him feel sweatier than he was actually. He massaged up Derek's legs until he was kneading his thighs.

"You'll be plugged, of course. I think I'll use the hollow one that people can fuck you through." Derek petted Stiles' hair.

Stiles leaned into the fingers, smiling lightly. "That one is always interesting, sir," he hummed.

 

"So, cuffed and collared and caged, nipple clamps attached to the cage, lipstick, and the hollow plug," Derek listed.

Stiles grinned softly. "Why the lipstick again, sir?" he asked softly. His face showed his curiosity. He scooted forward a bit more, nuzzling Derek's chest and stomach absently, breathing him in.

Derek scratched at Stiles' hair, tucking him closer. "I'm showing off your best features to play with, mio. And you hate being gagged."

Stiles wrinkled his nose. "I really, really do, sir," he murmured. "And you love my mouth, don't you sir?" He grinned, licking his lips.

"It's very good," Derek admitted casually. "Of course, your ass is good too."

"But that's what the hollow plug is for, sir." Stiles hummed. "Sir? When is the party?" he asked, looking up and tilting his head.

Derek glanced back at the email. "A little under two weeks," he answered.

"S'not that far away, sir." Stiles smiled, resting his chin on Derek's stomach, arms wrapped around his legs. He knew Derek's cock was against his throat, but he hadn't been given permission to continue.

"No," Derek answered absently, thinking. He didn't know if Stiles had the stamina for a party, and finding out would be fun to watch. "Put my cock away," he ordered. "You'll be doing something different while I work from now on."

Stiles let out a soft whine, tucking Derek's erection back into his pants. "What do you mean, sir?" he murmured, all but pouting.

"You'll find out," Derek promised. "Kneel in the corner, eyes closed, and wait for me."

Stiles nodded. "Yes sir." He smiled, sliding up on his knees and standing there for a moment, letting his legs come back from being numb before he walked over to kneel in the corner, hands on his thighs and eyes closed.

 

Derek went down to the basement and picked out the more portable fucking machine, as well as a large dildo to attach to it, and brought them up to his office, setting them up where Stiles would be visible from Derek's desk.

Stiles kept his eyes closed, lowering his face to the ground when he got tempted to peek. He could hear Derek moving around, even leaving for a moment. But his Master had told him not to move, to wait for him.

When everything was ready, Derek went over to Stiles and put a hand on his head. "Keep your eyes closed and come with me," he ordered.

Stiles reached up, grabbing Derek's hand as he carefully stood up, clenching his eyes closed as he followed Derek. He smiled, absently bringing the hand up to his face to nuzzle and kiss it, stumbling just a bit.

Derek smiled. "You're very sweet, mio," he commented, then stopped. "Here. Kneel again, on all fours."

"Yes, Master," Stiles whispered, kissing Derek's hand again before carefully lowering himself to the floor, unconsciously spreading his knees as he got into position.

"Good boy," Derek praised. He took out Stiles' plug and squirted some extra lube into his hole, carefully guided him backwards with hands on his hips, then pressed the tip of the dildo into him.

Stiles whimpered as his plug was removed, the hands on his hips making him shiver. Stiles let out a soft whine at the feel of the dildo, relaxing so it slid further into him. "Master," he panted softly, confused, but trusting his Master.

"You're going to be fucked, Stiles," Derek explained softly. "And you're going to take it, even though it's not me, just like you will at the party." He started the machine on its slowest setting. "You may open your eyes."

Stiles let out a soft sound as the machine started, opening his eyes to look up at Derek, eyes dark. It felt different than Derek, but he'd take anything his Master gave him. He'd be a good boy.

Derek petted Stiles' hair reassuringly. "I'm going to stay in the same room the whole time, this time, so if something is hurting or you need more lube, all you have to do it tell me." He kissed the top of Stiles' head, and returned to his desk.

"Yes, sir," Stiles panted, spreading his knees further, actually enjoying the deep, slow thrusts of the machine, letting out a soft moan.

Derek's cock twitched in his pants and he used his remote to turn the machine up a notch. He turned back to his computer, but it was difficult to ignore the squelching and whirring of Stiles getting fucked.

Stiles moaned just a bit louder, the steady thrusting making his toes curl. "Maaaster," he moaned, stretching and arching to both give Derek a good show, and to get the machine against his prostate.

"I wouldn't tire yourself out if I were you," Derek warned. "You'll be there for a while."

Stiles whined softly, shifting again to where it wasn't dead on his prostate. He knew he'd probably not be allowed to come for a while. "Yes, Master," he panted, relaxing into a pose that he knew Derek liked.

"Good boy," Derek said, then proceeded to ignore Stiles for the next fifteen minutes as he worked.

 

Stiles whimpered, resting his forehead on his arms, each thrust dragging another whimper or whine out of him. "God, Master," he gasped.

Derek glanced at Stiles, and turned the machine up another two notches.

Stiles let out a cry, the now fast, almost shallow thrusts making his thighs tremble. He pushed up onto his hands to help himself balancing, his eyes tilting up to lock onto Derek.

"If you want me to share you, slut, you'll have to prove you can take it," Derek pointed out, standing up and walking over to Stiles.

Stiles nodded, the name curling hotly in his stomach, his mouth parting to pant, clenching down on the dildo and making himself moan louder. He'd be good, he'd make Master proud.

"Keep that pretty mouth open," Derek ordered, unzipping his pants to take out his dripping cock. "I'm going to fuck it."

Stiles let out a loud moan. "Please Master," he panted. "Please, want it, need it." He opened his mouth just a bit wider, his throat relaxing as his eyes locked on the dripping cock in Derek’s hand.

Derek buried himself in Stiles' mouth and throat, enjoying the way the machine was fucking Stiles onto him. "Careful of your teeth," he warned, and turned the machine up to full speed.

Stiles let out a loud, sharp cry around Derek's cock as the machine slammed into him. Oh, he was going to be sore and sensitive after Derek took it out. He didn't even need to move, the machine slamming him up and down Derek's cock rapidly, making his breath short and his eyes roll back in pleasure. It was only by some miracle that Stiles hadn't come yet.

Derek made a mental note to send a positive review to the makers of Stiles' cock cage. The fact that he hadn't come even with this much stimulation was impressive. He also made a note to use a vibrating dildo next time. "You're doing well, Stiles," Derek promised him. "All you have to do is take the cock I'm giving you like a good, hungry slut."

Stiles whimpered, sucking as much as he could as he was pistoned back and forth.

Derek did his best to seem unaffected as the machine fucked Stiles onto him, although he couldn't hide his rapidly speeding breaths as he got closer and closer to the edge. "Don't swallow when I come," he warned Stiles as he got close to the edge.

Stiles whined softly in answer, his eyes closing. God, just having the machine slamming into his prostate and his owner's cock in his mouth was almost enough to push him over. And he had a while yet to go, more than likely.

Oh fuck. The vibration of Stiles' throat around him, when he was already so close...Derek pulled back until just the head (and a bit more when Stiles was fucked forwards) was in Stiles' mouth, and jerked his cock until he came. It didn't take long.

Stiles whimpered, almost swallowing before he managed to freeze, his tongue covered and he was drowning in the taste of his master.

"Good boy," Derek praised when Stiles didn't swallow, scratching at his scalp. "Don't spill any when I take my cock out, now." Derek suited actions to words, slipping his now soft cock out of Stiles' mouth and tucking it away.

Stiles sucked just a little so he didn't lose any, but not enough that he would automatically swallow. He whimpered, tilting his head up to look at Derek, eyes completely blown.

Derek bent down to press a fond kiss to Stiles' forehead, ignoring the obscene whirr and squelch of the machine. "That's my good come-slut," he murmured. "Now, I'm going to put the machine on random, and if you can hold that without swallowing for three minutes, I'll take your cage off and let you come."

Stiles let out a pleading whimper, nodding and nuzzling Derek as much as he could. This was going to be hard, he knew that for certain.

 

Derek stroked Stiles' cheek with a thumb, then went back to his computer and set a timer. About half attention was actually on his work, but the other half was constantly drawn to Stiles as he tried to adjust to the changing pace of the machine.

Stiles whimpered, high in his throat, lowering his shoulders and head, hoping that it would help him not to swallow. He kept letting out muffled cries each time the machine changed pace.

When there were only twenty seconds to go, the speed shifted to the top setting again, and Derek heard Stiles gasp. He turned off the timer and machine and walked over, crouching to look Stiles in the eye.

Stiles whimpered, lowering his eyes, his cheeks dark red. He could feel his eyes well up, not wanting to look at the disappointment that was going to be on Derek's face.

Derek tucked a finger under Stiles' chin, nudging it up until Stiles was looking at him. "Open your mouth," he ordered.

Stiles whimpered again, lowering his eyes and opening his mouth against Derek's finger. He was shaking, almost crying.

Derek's expression softened when he saw how distressed Stiles was already. He moved his hand so that three of his fingers were in Stiles' mouth. "Suck," he ordered softly. "I'm disappointed, but it's alright, Stiles," Derek promised. "I knew it was possible that you would fail."

Stiles immediately started sucking on Derek's fingers, whimpering softly and closing his eyes as tears ran down his cheeks. He'd failed. He couldn't do it. He was so close, but the machine had shocked him by ramping to its highest level from the lowest. He'd been startled. He let out a half-sob.

"Shh, it's alright," Derek murmured, threading the fingers of his free hand through Stiles' hair. "It's alright, sweet boy. You did your best."

Stiles leaned into the fingers in his hair, tongue curling around the ones in his mouth. The soft reassurance didn't do too much to soothe anything but the crying. He felt horrible; he'd disobeyed.

Derek felt awful, seeing Stiles' distress. He'd intended to test him, not push him past his limits. "Stiles, sweetheart," Derek said softly. "I need you to tell me what you need."

The pet name made him whimper. Stiles pulled away from Derek's fingers slowly, licking his lips. "I'm sorry," he whispered, not moving. "I tried really hard." His voice stayed soft. "I need -" He hesitated, thinking carefully with his head tilted. "I want to make you proud," he murmured after a moment. "I love it when you push limits. And I don't know why this failure has made me feel like this." He sniffled, one hand reaching up to wipe his eyes. "I need...I need you," he whispered at last. "I need to know I didn't fail, even though I wasn't able to do it. I don't want to be a failure."

Derek sighed in relief. "Okay. First of all, I'm very proud of you. You are skilled, and enthusiastic, and determined, and diligent with every task I give you. This was a challenge you didn't succeed at, but it wasn't an order you disobeyed, alright? You didn't fail. I told you that if you could do it, you'd get a reward, and you couldn't, so you won't. We'll just do something different."

Stiles relaxed against Derek as the words washed over him. "C-can I have a hug, sir?" he asked, almost shy, but just...needing it.

"Of course you can, Stiles," Derek said, wrapping his arms around the still-kneeling man and holding him tight.

Stiles buried his face in Derek's neck, still sniffling. "I'm sorry I failed you," he whispered. "I came so close to making it."

"It's alright," Derek promised. "You're alright, Stiles. I knew this would be hard for you, and you did such a good job."

Stiles relaxed even more at the praise, his hands fisting the back of Derek's shirt. "Thank you," he whispered. "I didn't mean to cry, I just felt like I had failed you."

"It's okay," Derek replied. "This was intense. It's okay that you needed to cry." He paused. "Do you want some private time in your room?"

Stiles made a negative sound ."No, don't want to leave you," he murmured. "This is helping." He was as relaxed as he could be against Derek, pressing absent kisses to the skin of Derek's neck that was under his mouth.

"Alright." Derek stroked Stiles' back, letting him take the comfort he needed. "Do you need me to take the fucking machine out?"

"That's up to you, sir," Stiles murmured. He pulled back a bit after a moment, nuzzling Derek's jaw like he always did.

 

"I originally had an idea for what we would do if you swallowed," Derek admitted. "But I'm concerned it would be too much for you right now."

Stiles whined softly. "Want to," he murmured. "I'll let you know if it gets to be too much, I promise, sir."

Derek stroked Stiles' hair approvingly. "Good boy. The intent was to overwhelm you, though, so I'm giving you a safeword for this one. If you really think you can't take it for me anymore, I want you to say 'red', nice and clearly. Can you do that?"

Stiles leaned into the strokes to his hair, a smile on his face at the praise. "Yes sir. I'll say ‘red’ if it gets to be way too much."

"Good boy," Derek said again. "Now, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to put the machine on a medium setting, and take your cage off. You may come as many times as you want, but I will not turn off the machine."

Stiles let out a soft whimper, nodding and nuzzling Derek’s jaw. "Yes, sir," he whispered, shivering. He'd go as long as he could; he wanted to make Derek proud.

"Good boy," Derek praised. "Now, I want you to know that if you need to safeword before I'm done with you, that's not a failure. I'll be proud of you for doing as much as you can, and for being honest about what you can't do."

Stiles smiled up at Derek, nuzzling his jaw again. "I understand, sir," he whispered. "Thank you, Master." His chest felt warm from the praise, and the knowledge that he wouldn't be a failure for needing to stop.

"You're very welcome, pet," Derek said warmly. "Now, I'll be in the room the whole time, but I'll only stay right here for the first little while." He moved around to Stiles' side, reaching for the cock cage to unlock it.

Stiles licked his lips, the feel of the cage coming off made him groan. "Y-yes sir," he murmured, shifting on his knees and gasping softly as the machine was still in him and his movement at landed it right on his prostate.

"Come as much as you want," Derek reiterated, glad he had a wooden floor rather than carpet in here. "Let me get this going again." He drizzled more lube on the dildo and turned the machine back on.

Stiles let out a shocked noise, arching his back as the machine fucked into him. "O-ohh..." It was even more intense now that the cage wasn't holding him back. "M-master."

"That's it, pet, take your fucking like a good boy," Derek murmured. "Just like you're going to let everyone fuck you at the party."

Stiles tilted his head back, watching Derek through half-lidded eyes, the machine slamming into his prostate as it dragged gasping moans out of his throat.

Derek ran a hand through Stiles' hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. "They won't bother to touch you, mio," he warned. "It's your job to give them pleasure, and you'll only get any if you can take it while they fuck you. You're sensitive right now, aren't you?"

Stiles could only nod, careful not to dislodge Derek's hand. "Cl-close," he gasped, all the pent-up arousal making his now aching cock throb.

Derek wasn't surprised. Stiles hadn't come at all, the last few days, and Derek had been working him up for the better part of an hour.

Stiles let out a loud cry, his face scrunching up as he came, his arms trembling, but he managed to hold still. "O-ohhh," he whimpered, eyes closed as he leaned into Derek's space.

Derek kissed him on the forehead. "Good boy," he murmured. "Just like that."

Stiles let out a soft noise, pressing close as he could to Derek. He was so sensitive, and yet his stomach twisted hotly.

"I know it's a lot, mio," Derek said softly. "But I know you can take it. You can take what I give you, can't you?"

"Y-yes M-master," Stiles panted, fingers curling against the floor, lowering his shoulders as his prostate was slammed again. He cried out and came weakly, panting and resting on his shoulders so his arms would stop trembling

Derek smiled, stroking Stiles' back. "There we go. I'm going to go back to work now, but I'll be right here the whole time, alright?"

"Y-yes sir," Stiles gasped. He whimpered softly, rocking back against the machine's thrusts without thinking. Oh, he hurt, it was so good. He was so sensitive.

"Good boy," Derek said, and stood up to go back to his desk. He doubted he'd be very productive with Stiles to watch and listen to, though.

 

Stiles panted, turning his face to watch Derek, moaning and arching, putting on a show for his owner. He was quickly getting hard again, his body still not used to being out of the cage after the last few days.

Derek turned away, feigning absorption in his work, but he couldn't close his ears to Stiles' gasps and moans.

Stiles let out a low whine, his fingers scrambling back between his legs to grip his thighs, panting. "Close," he couldn't help but gasp out.

"Come when you want," Derek reiterated. "So long as you're taking that cock, it's not important."

Stiles' answer was a whimpering cry as he came again, his orgasm almost dry.

Derek glanced over, knowing that if Stiles came after this, it would take a while, and it would probably be his limit.

Stiles was babbling under his breath, each thrust making his whole body ache.

"Beg to be fucked, slut," Derek ordered softly. "Beg like that dildo is a proper cock in your ass, like someone's using you the way you're meant for."

Stiles immediately let out a sharp whine, his babbling pleas growing louder. "Please, want it, fill me, please."

"Good boy," Derek said, and flicked the speed up a notch.

Stiles cried out, panting heavily as he was pounded into. It was a few minutes later when he came with a half scream. "R-red," he whined out, almost flinching with each thrust.

Derek turned the machine off immediately and hurried to Stiles' side. "Good boy," he said, stroking Stiles' back. "Such a good boy, mio, that was perfect. Can you hold still for me while I take the machine out?"

"Y-yes sir," Stiles panted, the praise and petting the only reason why his head wasn't shaming him. He curled his toes, biting his lips.

"That's good," Derek said warmly. "That's very good, Stiles." He moved to the machine and gently withdrew the attached dildo from Stiles' hole.

Stiles let out a loud whimper, slumping to the floor with a soft pant. "Thank you, Master." he whispered.

Derek sat down, petting Stiles gently. "You're very welcome, mio. You're so good."

Stiles pushed himself up shakily, turning to press against Derek. "Thank you." he whispered, smiling.

"Good boy," Derek said again. "I'm going to pick you up now, okay?"

"Yes, sir." Stiles gave Derek a drowsy smile, one hand going to tangle in his shirt. "Please."

"That's my good boy," Derek praised, crouching to pick Stiles up in a bridal carry.

Stiles clung to him, licking his lips and nuzzling Derek's jaw. "Want to make you proud," he smiled against his jaw.

"You've made me very proud," Derek promised quietly, carrying Stiles to his bedroom. "You did so well for me."

Stiles relaxed against him, nose against Derek's throat. A small smile curled his lips at Derek's words. He loved hearing praise.

 

Derek set Stiles on the bed and lay down next to him. "How are you feeling, mio?"

"Sore, but good," Stiles murmured, rolling carefully toward him. "Tender."

Derek reached out, resting his hand gently on Stiles' hip. "I didn't go too far?" he checked conscientiously.

Stiles shook his head. "You stopped when I warned that it was too much. You didn't go too far, sir."

"That's good," Derek said, pleased that he'd managed to judge things right. "Thank you for being honest about your limits."

"I wanted to go as long as I could. For a split second I was going to try and go further, but I just couldn't," Stiles admitted softly.

"I'm proud of you for taking it for so long, Stiles," Derek said warmly, stroking his thumb over Stiles' hip. "And I'm pleased with you for being honest with me and yourself about what you couldn't do."

Stiles' smiled softly, leaning into his touch. "I'm excited for the party." he admitted softly. "I'm nervous, but the thought of my Master watching me...."

"I'm glad you're excited," Derek said, smiling. "I'll be with you the whole time, I promise."

He nodded. "I trust you.” Stiles smiled brightly. "My Master will keep me safe, even while I'm being used."

Derek drew in a shocked breath. "I will," he promised quietly, sealing the oath with a kiss to Stiles' forehead. "You're safe with me."

Stiles leaned into the affection before tilting his head up. "Sir? Are you ok?" he murmured, having heard the sharp breath.

"I'm very good, mio," Derek reassured Stiles gently. "I was just a little surprised."

"Why, sir?" he tilted his head, his hands curled up near his bare chest, relaxed into the bed and slightly against Derek.

Derek pulled Stiles a little closer. "I didn't expect you trust me like that so fast," he explained.

"I trust you. I have almost since I got here." Stiles smiled, cuddling close, wincing as the movement made the soreness flare.

Derek frowned, stroking Stiles' hip again. "Why? he asked simply.

"Why what, sir?" Stiles blinked, the stroking on his hip calming him down from the wince.

"What made you trust me?" Derek rephrased.

Stiles hummed, closing his eyes as he thought. "You weren't hiding things. You weren't expecting me to fail. You gave me my own space, even if I _do_ have to ask to use it. You keep me safe. You push me, but you stop when it gets to be too much. I've seen you do it. Just before it gets to be too much you stop yourself."

Derek thought back, remembering stretching Stiles out, remembering the weighted nipple clamps, remembering tying him up and jerking him off without letting him come. Remembering the way he'd watched Stiles, not just hungrily, voyeuristically, but carefully. "I guess I do," he admitted. "Stop myself."

"Because you want to push me, but not cause me any real harm," Stiles murmured. "And I trust you. Even at the party, you won't let it go too far." He smiled brightly. "And that's why my Master is amazing. Because he wants to own me, but not break me."

Derek had to admit, he still wasn't quite used to being called 'Master'. It still gave him a thrill, especially knowing Stiles had _chosen_ to call him that. That _Stiles_ thought that 'sir' wasn't enough. He blushed. "You're my boy," he muttered. "Why would I want to break you?"

"And that makes _my_ Master better than a lot of the masters I've heard of." Stiles smiled. He reached up, running his fingers carefully over the flush on Derek's cheek. He liked watching his Master when the man realized how much Stiles cared for him. His Master was a good master: he was kind, and even loving. He treated Stiles like he was special, even while using and pushing him.

"Just because I own you doesn't mean I can be cruel to you," Derek protested. "We're not supposed to be cruel to our pets, why should it be okay to be cruel to a slave?"

"Some people, even though we’re still humans, think that we're literally just a piece of property, like a couch," Stiles murmured. "So they don't see us slaves as human. You'll be surprised what people will do when they don't see something or someone as a human." Stiles dragged the tip of his nose along Derek's jaw. "Some see us as nothing less than the dirt on their dog’s paws."

Derek shook his head, frowning disapprovingly. "It shouldn't be legal to treat a slave like that."

Stiles smiled. "No, it shouldn't. But then again, there's also a few that don't believe in slaves period. But honestly, I feel I would have ended up yours anyway, Master. Even if it wasn't in the slave trade. You were meant to be my Master."

 

"I want to believe that," Derek admitted, voice so soft as to be barely audible. "I want to believe you'd have chosen to be mine."

"Master…” Stiles smiled, petting Derek's cheek. "You know, When I heard the auctioneer call out your bid, I almost started crying. For some reason I just knew I'd be okay. I was saved from the brothels. And I had this feeling in my chest that I'd been found."

Derek leaned in and kissed Stiles softly, chastely, on the mouth. "I'd like us to move towards a Dom/sub relationship," he said quietly. "If you're willing. I want you to have time when you aren't my slave."

"How so?" Stiles asked, his voice just as soft, his fingers going to tangle in Derek's shirt. "We're doing something similar now, right?" he asked softly. "You're my Master. Regardless on if this is an owner/slave relationship or a Dom/sub one. You're still my Master." He smiled. "Honestly, it is up to you. I'm good either way. As long as I'm still _yours_ , I'm fine."

Derek shook his head. "The actions are similar, but the relationship is different," he explained. "As your owner, the power is all mine. As a sub, the power is yours, given freely to me, and able to be freely withdrawn."

Stiles tilted his head, humming. "Explain please?" he murmured, shifting and wincing again.

"A Dom/sub relationship is a relationship between equals," Derek said quietly. "The submission of the sub is a gift, not a right. At any time, either party can withdraw consent by safewording."

"Like when I said ‘red’ earlier because I couldn't handle anymore?" Stiles asked, his head tilted the other way. He was confused. "What else would be different?"

"Like that," Derek agreed. "If you said red, it would mean I had to stop whatever I was doing, untie you if you were bound, remove any toys, and make sure you were okay. I _could not_ do anything other than that."

"Even if I wanted you to?" Stiles asked softly. He frowned, trying to explain what he meant. "Like if I needed you to try it again, if I was scared of something but still wanted to try."

"If you were just anxious or unsure, you could tell me 'yellow', which means you need to stop and talk, or change something, but not stop everything all together," Derek suggested.

Stiles tilted his head, small smile growing. "Would anything else be different?"

"If you're willing, I'd like there to be times when we interact as equals," Derek admitted. "Like your private time, when I can't make demands, but...with us still talking to each other."

Stiles nodded, still in thought. "In public, I may not be able to do this," he murmured. "But I like it so far, sir." He beamed.

Derek smiled back. "Not in public, no. I understand that. But thank you for being willing to try."

"Any other differences? Things to the rules that change. Things like that ?" Stiles beamed at the praise, nuzzling Derek’s jaw.

Derek cupped the back of Stiles' head with one hand, encouraging him. "Earlier, I told you that I needed you to tell me when you were hurt or distressed. Now I'd like you to also ask for things you want."

Stiles let out a soft purr, eyes falling half closed. "I love things done to my hair. Even just simple petting. I want..." He hummed in thought. "I want to be given choices sometimes. A this or that thing. Just sometimes. And I don't want too much to change with things like me being your cockwarmer. Makes me feel safe and floaty." He flushed.

Derek scratched at Stiles' scalp, taking the hint. "For now, we'll keep things mostly the same," he agreed. "Any changes, I'll ask you first, okay? Or they'll be your suggestions." He paused, then added, "When you say choices, do you mean choosing between two things you like, or two things that will challenge you?"

"Both." Stiles smiled, leaning back into the scratching with a pleased noise. "Maybe things I like that can be rewards, or new things to try that will challenge me. That can give us the ability to see which would not bother me quite as much while still challenging me."

"That sounds good," Derek agreed. "I'll just...overall, we'll talk more about what we do, mi tesoro. Is that okay with you?"

Stiles gave him a bright smile. "Yes sir. Um, what does mi tesoro mean?"

Derek tipped his head to press a kiss to Stiles' forehead. "My treasure," he murmured.

Stiles flushed, giving Derek a small smile. "I'm your treasure?"

"You are," Derek said warmly, looking Stiles in the eye, hoping it conveyed his sincerity. "My wonderful, beautiful treasure."

Stiles flushed darkly, lowering his eyes and butting his head against Derek's jaw carefully. His chest was warm and tight, a happy feeling rushing through him.

Derek smiled at the familiar gesture - Stiles was like a cat that way - and hugged the man tight. "Rest, mi tesoro. I'll be here."

Stiles smiled, kissing Derek’s jaw and carefully settling closer, slipping into sleep between one breath and the next, fingers of one hand tangled in Derek's shirt.

\-----

"Stiles, do you want Chinese or pizza?" Derek called up the stairs. It was their usual night for movies and takeout - 'date night', Stiles affectionately called it.

Stiles hummed, looking up from the book he was reading. "Chinese, please!" he called back. "Could I have extra egg rolls?" He stood, poking his head out of 'his' room. He mainly used it as a study now, more of a reading nook and a place to laze around in the sun on the beanbag or window seat. He had told Derek over a month ago that even though the room was still 'his’, Derek was welcome in it. Setting his book down he walked downstairs, collar gleaming at his throat.

Derek laughed slightly. "You always want extra egg rolls, tesoro," he pointed out, meeting Stiles at the bottom of the stairs with a brief kiss.

"I like eggrolls," Stiles huffed, sticking his tongue out playfully.

"D'you want to go choose a movie while I order?” Derek suggested. “It's your turn."

"Yes, sir," Stiles hummed into another kiss, nuzzling Derek’s jaw and butting his head against it gently. "Where are you wanting to sit? I'll take you a drink in there too, Master."

"The main couch," Derek decided, scratching at Stiles' hair. "I want us to be able to curl up together. And a coke would be great." Derek had never been much of a social drinker, and now that he had Stiles, he drank alcohol - even beer - even more rarely. He never wanted to hurt Stiles accidentally because he wasn't sober enough to notice something important.

Stiles let out a soft purr, leaning into the scratches and smiling. "Ice or no ice?" he murmured, putting off moving for a moment longer.

Derek wrapped his other arm around Stiles, guessing what he _really_ wanted, and held him close for a little while. "So considerate, mi tesoro," he praised, "even when I'm not asking you to serve me." Stiles was never obligated to do anything on date night. "No ice, please."

"Just because you didn't ask, doesn't mean I don't _want_ to, Master." he murmured, soaking up the affection. Stiles nuzzled close, breathing him in deeply before smiling up at him. "I'll put it on the sidetable next to the spot you like on the main couch."

"Thank you, querido," Derek murmured, kissing Stiles' cheek. "Now, I need to let go so I can call the Chinese place."

Stiles whined softly, pulling away with a small pout. "Fiiiiiiiine," he whined playfully, giving Derek a grin before moving into the kitchen to get Derek's drink. He hummed, getting himself one too before heading into the living room, setting them on either sidetable before poking around their movie collection.

 

Derek called in their usual order - with extra egg rolls, as usual - and followed Stiles to the living room. He smiled to himself as he watched Stiles try to decide - over the past few months since they'd started shifting towards a Dom/sub rather than a owner/slave relationship, Stiles had gotten more outspoken about his tastes, and Derek's small collection had grown substantially.

Stiles pulled out the second Captain America movie, almost dancing toward Derek, smiling widely. He climbed into Derek's lap, content to straddle him and nuzzle his jaw for a moment. "How long did they say it would be?"

Derek rested his hands on Stiles' hips, holding him in place. "About forty minutes, mio," he replied.

Stiles grinned widely, the feel of Derek's hands on his hips making him content and warm. "How has work been? You seemed a little upset  today?"

Derek sighed. As Vice President of Finance at his family's company, he did most of his work from home. But... "Someone fucked up in HR," he explained. "I'm going to be going to a lot of meetings this week while we sort everything out."

Stiles let out a whine, pouting and clinging to Derek tighter. "Just hang him up by the balls as an example to the others," he huffed, laying his head on Derek's shoulder.

Derek snorted. "I think Peter actually might," he mused. Peter was head of their Legal department, and he was famously ruthless. "He had that tone of voice when I talked to him."

"Oh goodie." Stiles grinned. Despite the creeper vibe Peter sometimes gave off, the man made him laugh. "Make sure to take pictures, that'll be interesting blackmail." Stiles hummed, kissing up Derek's neck.

Derek laughed a little. Stiles and Peter had an...interesting relationship. At first, Peter had, well, Derek had had to set some fairly explicit boundaries about Stiles. After that, they'd gone through a period of Peter acting like Stiles wasn't there, apart from the leering. But as Stiles had gotten more outspoken, Peter had started to find him intriguing. Derek feared for society if the two of them ever joined forces.

"How long do you have to be gone each day?" Stiles asked softly, content to draw patterns on Derek's chest.

Derek kissed Stiles' forehead lightly. "I think I can do it in two full days, one tomorrow and one Friday, plus some follow-ups next week," he suggested. "Or if you'd prefer, I can go in for a few hours or a half day until we fix this up."

Stiles hummed to himself, frowning softly in thought. "I think it might be better for it to be whichever one you think will get it done correctly. Full day for only two days or small spurts could both mean something may be overlooked."

Derek sighed, frowning. Stiles was right, Derek just didn't like going to work - he didn't like leaving Stiles, either. "How would you feel about coming to work with me for a while?" he asked. "We'd need to be less casual, obviously."

Stiles perked up a bit, eyes lighting up. "That would work! And you know I don't mind being ‘less casual’," he snarked playfully. "Besides, with me there, maybe both you and Peter will be a little calmer."

" _I_ mind being less casual," Derek murmured under his breath. He didn't like feeling like he owned Stiles.

Stiles stroked down Derek's arm soothingly. "Sir," he murmured, moving so his mouth was near Derek's ear as he rested his head on his shoulder. "I know you don't like it. But even though we're pretending for the society thing. That's all it is, Pretending. Role-play, even. We know what we are. I know I'm your _sub_. I'm your slave only in the eyes of the public, but me and you both know the difference."

Derek frowned and looked away. "The eyes of the public and the eyes of the law," he pointed out. "You have no protection, no options. You never get to leave me. If I hurt you, there's nothing you can do."

"It's a good thing you and I know you'll never hurt me intentionally. And even accidently you'll do your best not to." Stiles nuzzled Derek’s neck. He let out a soft sigh, using the name he very rarely used (having a preference for ‘Master’), and usually said only to get his point across. "Derek, please...I trust you, I don't ever want to leave you, and I know you'll protect me." His voice softened to a whisper.

 

"I changed my will," Derek said suddenly. He hadn't really meant to tell Stiles that, but... "If I - if something happens, you'll be freed. You'll get a cash settlement, and Hale Enterprises will be required to at least interview you for any jobs you apply for in the following ten years."

Stiles sucked in a breath, clinging tightly to Derek. "Sir," he whispered. "Derek, I..." He clung harder, burying his face in Derek's neck, and burst into tears. It was something he'd been scared of. What would happen if something happened to Derek? Would he go back to the circuit? The fact that his Master made sure his boy was taken care of, even if he was no longer there...it was just too much. "I love you," he whispered between sobs.

Derek was stroking Stiles' back, trying to soothe him, when he realised what Stiles had said and froze. "...Stiles?" he murmured. "Querido, could you look at me please?" Had he really meant it?

Stiles let out a whine, clinging tighter for a moment before pushing back just enough to look at Derek. He was still crying but slowly calming. He sniffled, his breath hitching as he wiped his eyes.

Derek brought his hands up to cup Stiles' face, stroking tears away from his cheeks with his thumbs. "Stiles, querido...mi tesoro...did you mean it?" he breathed.

Stiles' cheeks were pink, partly with tears, partly from shyness as he nodded, sniffling softly. "I love you." he whispered again, his voice wet and choking with more tears.

Derek swallowed hard. "Don't cry, querido," he murmured, leaning in for a kiss. "Don't cry, love."

Stiles' breathing hitched, his eyes widening, even as he pressed hard into the kiss. "M-master? D-derek..." he pressed closer, sniffling and trying to get his crying under control.

Derek tried to put everything he felt into kissing Stiles again and again, every word he'd never said, every emotion he'd held back so as not to push Stiles, not to demand anything of him. "I love you, Stiles," he promised.

Stiles burst into tears again, clinging tightly to Derek, pressing into each kiss as he shook and trembled. "Y-you mean it? Really mean i-it?"

Derek clutched Stiles close, the familiar hold new and newly intimate. "I mean it, love," Derek reassured him, the endearment tasting perfect on his tongue. "I love you so much."

Stiles wouldn't let go for anything, his mouth open to speak, when the doorbell startled him into flailing backward and ending up on the floor. "Ow," he whined, pouting.

Derek ducked his head to hide his smile, then moved forward and offered Stiles a hand up, standing at the same time. "I'm going to go get our dinner, alright love?" he murmured, holding Stiles' hand tight between them. "Do you want to clean up, maybe?"

He nodded, sniffling softly. "Need to wash my face, Master." He smiled, kissing Derek's cheek before heading to the bathroom.

Derek took a couple of deep breaths, trying to seem even remotely normal, on the way to the door. He paid for and took the food on automatic - he tipped, but he had no idea how much - his mind replaying the scene he'd left behind over and over again. It wasn't what he'd imagined (he'd dreamed of this moment so many times), but it was all the better for that. It was real, and it was them.

Stiles splashed his face with cold water, washing away the proof of tears. His Master loved him!! He couldn't help but flail a bit in his happiness. He knew Derek cared for him, but this wasn't something he had dared hope for.

 

Derek returned to the living room and looked around. The room was clean, thanks to Stiles, and thanks to Stiles, there were glasses for them both on the side tables. But eating take-out out of the carton didn't seem like enough for tonight. "Stay there until I say you can come in, okay love?" Derek called, going to the cupboard where they kept tablecloths. They rarely used them for the coffee table, but he could make it work.

Stiles blinked. "Yes sir!" he called back, sitting on the edge of the tub. He pressed a cold washcloth to his eyes to hopefully stop the slight swelling he always got when he cried

Derek put out a red tablecloth, found forks and plates and set those out, then considered the set-up and got some candles. He decanted the food from cartons onto plates or into bowls, lit the candles, and turned the main light off. He considered the effect for a moment, then called out, "You can come in when you're ready."

Stiles stood, eyeing himself in the mirror, relieved that his eyes weren’t swollen anymore. Walking back down the steps, he gasped softly, a bright smile on his face. "Master...it's so pretty!"

A relieved smile spread across Derek's face at Stiles' reaction. "Thank you," he murmured. "I was hoping you'd like it."

Stiles beamed at him, nodding and hurrying over to kiss Derek’s cheek. "Thank you, Master," he breathed, nuzzling close.

Derek accepted the kiss, then took Stiles' hands and knelt, adopting one of the customary slave postures - legs spread, back straight, head bowed.

Stiles sputtered, falling to his own knees. "M-master?" he whispered, voice high in confusion. He reached out, trying to tilt Derek's head back up.

Derek kept Stiles' hands clutched in his own and kissed them, not raising his head. "Let me kneel for you, please," he begged.

"B-but?" Stiles was confused. "Wh-why?" His voice was small, high-pitched, even as he started to tremble. Why was his Master kneeling for _him_?

"Because I'm yours," Derek said simply. "Because, if in any way I am your master, you are mine. Because you hold my love in your hands - " Derek kissed them again " - and love me in return."

Stiles scooted closer on his knees, leaning his forehead against Derek's hair. "Master," he murmured, nuzzling close.

"Master," Derek said in return. "Please...accept ownership of my heart as I have ownership of your body. Accept me as yours."

Stiles whined softly. "Master, I will, but please." He shifted a bit on his knees. It didn't feel right, Derek calling him ‘master’. It made his insides twist.

"How may I please you?" Derek asked nervously. He needed Stiles to understand what he was saying, understand that Derek was offering him as equal a claim as he could.

Stiles whined again. "Derek. Master, please. Don't," he pleaded softly. "I get it, okay? You want to give me a chance. But please. It feels really, _really_ wrong to hear you try to be that. Please. It doesn't feel right. I own your heart, yes, you own mine. Please, Master," he begged, nuzzling close.

 

Derek looked up at the distress in Stiles' voice, shaking his head. "Querido, no," he objected. "This isn't just...I'm not asking you to Dom me."

Stiles relaxed a bit, leaning toward him. "Then what...?" He didn't understand. He moved closer, almost straddling Derek's thighs. "Please. Just...explain? Plain words."

“I love you,” Derek said simply. “I love you, and I own you. Everyone knows that I own you. You wear my collar, and you call me master. I’ve claimed you in every way I can.”

Stiles nodded, smiling softly and kissing Derek's jaw. "Yes Master, that’s true. I love you, and you love me. I love you and I belong to you. Everyone knows that you're _my_ Master. I wear your collar because I want to be yours, I call you Master because that's who you are to me, completely. Even without the slave bit. You're my master."

Derek swallowed and nodded. "Please, Stiles, querido...claim me," he begged. "I want to be yours."

Stiles whined softly. "What do you want me to do, Master?" he begged, still not understanding. "Please, just tell me. You're mine, I know this, just _please_.”

Tension melted out of Derek's frame when Stiles said he was his. "Querido...I can't wear a collar for you." He reached out, fingering the leather wrapped around Stiles' neck. "But I want...something. Please...may I wear a sign of your claim?"

"I..." Stiles tilted his head, his mind spinning as he tried to understand. "What do you mean? Like a tattoo, or a necklace? what are you meaning, Master?"

"A tattoo, a necklace..." Derek blushed. "A ring. Whatever you choose. Please."

Stiles took his own hands back, sliding them into his hair and gripping it tightly as he tried to think. "Sir...Master." He rubbed his hands down across his face, sighing softly. "I don't really know what you want, Master," he whispered to himself, battling his old frustration. "But maybe a tattoo? Something small, just for us? I don't know." Stiles flopped back onto his back, hands still covering his face.

Derek frowned. He'd meant this to be a romantic gesture, but all it had done was make Stiles stressed and anxious. "I'm sorry," he said, shame-faced. "You don't have to."

"No, Master." Stiles scrambled up, wrapping his arms around Derek. "Listen, please. I'm just frustrated. I don't really know what you want me to do, and frankly, you aren't being very plain. I want to see something I came up with on your body." He paused for a moment watching Derek. "I know the reason you're doing this, and I really appreciate it, I love the gesture, and you, I promise. I just..."

Derek sighed. "I don't _know_ exactly what I want, love," he admitted. "I just know I want _something_. I'm sorry."

Stiles shook his head. "Don't be. Please," he begged softly, his hand reaching for Derek’s wrist. He paused, suddenly, his finger going to trace the inside of that wrist, lost in thought.

 

Derek stopped perfectly still, holding his breath as he waited for Stiles to speak.

"A little fox," Stiles murmured, smiling softly. "Right here, right over your veins." He smiled, tilting his head towards Derek, and leaned forward to kiss the skin there.

Derek shivered. "Thank you," he murmured. He'd be able to see it, not just every day, but almost constantly. "Why a fox?" he asked curiously.

Stiles gave him a grin. "Because I can be just as mischievous, and curious. Master," he breathed, kissing Derek softly and standing, tugging on Derek's hands, "please, don't kneel like that. You're _my_ Master, not the other way around."

Derek smiled, and got awkwardly to his feet. "I really admire how comfortable you are on your knees, tesoro," he admitted, wincing slightly. "And a fox is perfect for you."

Stiles smiled, immediately kneeling in front of Derek and humming happily, nuzzling his stomach. "I like it."

"Not the most convenient for eating dinner though," Derek pointed out, stroking Stiles' hair.

Stiles let out a soft sound, smiling against Derek's stomach. "Yeah, and eating is important." He grinned, words muffled by where his face was pressed.

"So how about we eat before we have to reheat the food, hmm?" Derek suggested. He glanced at the table. "Actually, we may have to do that anyway."

Stiles laughed brightly, poking at the food. "It's still warm, but we could," he suggested, shoving half of an eggroll into his mouth.

Derek shook his head. "I don't...really want to let go of you," he admitted.

Stiles smiled, chewing and swallowing before kissing Derek's cheek. "Master, you need to sit down to eat. I promise you, I'm not going anywhere."

"So long as you sit too and let me hold you," Derek countered.

Stiles laughed, his eyes crinkling as he nodded. "Of course, Master," he teased, kissing Derek’s cheek. "I had planned on it."

"Good boy," Derek said warmly, almost teasingly. "Come on, then." He sat down, resting his left arm on the back of the couch invitingly.

 

Stiles curled next to him, shoving the other half of his eggroll into his mouth. He hummed after he swallowed, shifting closer to Derek. "Anything else interesting happen with work? Didn't you have that new intern, sir?"

"You mean Isaac?" Derek checked. "He's doing alright, but he's still pretty jumpy." Not that Derek blamed him. For years, his father had been treating him...well, most people would say 'like a slave', but Derek couldn't imagine treating a slave that badly. It had been discovered eventually, but Isaac was still adjusting.

"Twitchy little thing," Stiles cooed softly. "I like him, makes me want to wrap him up in scarves so he'll stay warm and padded." He nodded, filching another eggroll from the pile.

Derek began to serve himself. "I'm going to need to leave you on your own when I'm in some of the more sensitive meetings this week," he pointed out. "Would you like me to put Isaac in charge of you when I do?" He couldn't leave Stiles without a guardian at his workplace, and with Isaac, at least he could be sure Stiles would be treated well.

Stiles thought it over, swallowing his bite before smiling. "I think I'd like that. Because he knows how it is. Does he know about us like Peter does?"

Derek shook his head. "I haven't known him long enough to tell him that. And I wouldn't, without telling you." He'd only told Peter because of the arguments about changing his will, and because Peter visited often enough that it was starting to be obvious Stiles wasn't a typical slave.

Stiles nodded, smiling as he dragged his sesame chicken and lo mein over. "I figured, Master, I just wanted to make sure I knew which role I was in."

"You're my slave at work, love," Derek said, taking one of the egg rolls too. "No matter who you're with. I'm sorry."

"And that's fine, Master," Stiles chided softly. "Nothing to be sorry about. I like being your slave just as much as being your sub." He flicked a noodle at Derek, frowning lightly.

Derek dodged, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Fine," he acknowledged. "But I'm getting you a pager so you can let me know you need me if I'm not there." Slaves tended to be allowed only the simplest communications technology, especially when unsupervised, but a pager wouldn't attract comment.

Stiles beamed, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Master" he murmured, nuzzling for a moment before going back to eating.

"You're welcome," Derek replied, and turned his attention to the meal. Or rather, turned _most_ of his attention to the meal, while the rest of him marvelled over the revelations of the evening. Stiles loved him. Stiles was going to claim him.

Stiles ate his food, pressed close to Derek. His blood was almost singing he was so happy. His Master, Derek, he loved him! Stiles hadn't hoping for anything more than he had, but he had gotten what he wanted! He purred happily, his eyes lowering to his lap.

When they were done, Derek reached for Stiles’ hand, bringing the inside of Stiles’ wrist to his lips and kissing it, right where Stiles has promised Derek would get his tattoo. “I love you, querido,” he murmured. “So much.”

Stiles turned Derek’s hand over and kissed his wrist in return, then Derek’s lips. “Love you too, Master.”

**Author's Note:**

> So...this is different. This is actually something Kattseye and I wrote back in November, before we started As Ordered, but because of the dubcon, I've been unsure about posting it. However, with several months of amazing feedback from the Sterek fandom on that project, we decided to share this one with you all. We're looking forward, as always, to your comments and kudos.
> 
> And no, this is NOT the promised other project we're working on ;) -Kattseye


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